Our Man at the Front
by Malvolia
Summary: A series of moments in the life of Felix and Izzy, from his enlistment in the Navy through his return as an Army veteran, including what happened to Elbert, why Felix showed up on King Farm with no notice, and where Izzy was all that time. COMPLETE
1. Enlisting

"They're really good, and with us being short a player...I don't know," Izzy sighed. "I hate to forfeit."

"Sounds good," Felix answered mechanically, earning himself a cuff on the shoulder.

"Felix King, I don't think you've heard a word I've said this whole afternoon."

He shook himself as if to clear his head. "I'm sorry, Iz. Guess I have a lot on my mind."

"Guess you do. How about sharing some of it?" She sat down on a convenient fallen tree and waited.

Felix paced in front of her, rubbing a hand through his hair distractedly. Finally, he spoke. "You know how I've always loved the hotel?" She nodded. "Well, it's just...I'm beginning to wonder if it's really for me. If I've done enough, seen enough, that I want to be tied down to Avonlea for the rest of my life."

"Oh," Izzy said.

He was sitting beside her in a second. "I don't mean...there's a lot for me here. My family. My friends." He nudged her elbow. "My _best_ friend. But with Gus coming back.... I've been thinking about all the stories he has to tell. All the places he's been."

"You want an adventure."

"Yeah." His eyes were glowing with excitement. Izzy had seen the look dozens of times and knew the intensity of the feeling behind it couldn't be squelched.

"What are you going to do?"

"I was thinking the Navy. What do you think?"

"What does it matter what I think?"

"Izzy."

Old dreams stirred in Izzy's heart as she remembered wanting to be the first ever woman general in the Canadian Army. "I only wish I could go with you."

He grinned and took her hand. "So do I. I can't think of anybody I'd rather have next to me in a tough spot."

"Have you told your parents yet?"

"I'm not sure I'm going to. My mother's going to hate it."

"She's going to find out eventually. When do you intend it to be, the first time you put on the uniform?"

He shrugged, and she shook her head in exasperation.

"Felix King, I like you very much, but sometimes you're an idiot."


	2. Wager

"Felix King, sometimes you're an idiot," he muttered to himself as he adjusted his uniform for the last time before going down to meet his parents. He hoped that his mother would be too overwhelmed with the excitement of Gus and Felicity's wedding for her to be upset about his decision. Or at least that there wouldn't be time for her to lecture him.

When he'd told Izzy about his plan, he'd rather expected a lecture from her, too. She had simply rolled her eyes. "You're putting me in a bit of a spot, aren't you? Do I pretend I'm as surprised as everybody else, or do I let your parents figure out you didn't trust them with the information in advance?"

"Oh," he said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I didn't suppose you had."

"Maybe you'll be surprised anyway," he said. "I expect I'm going to look very handsome in my uniform."

"I'll be wearing a bridesmaid dress," she countered. "I wager I'll look better than you will."

"What's the bet?"

"First dance," she offered.

He looked aggrieved. "I wasn't already going to get the first dance?"

"It might have gone to my father."

"_All_ the dances. Except for the ones you dance with your father."

She smiled and shook his hand. "Done."

As expected, when he made it downstairs his parents were in such a hurry to get to the church that they didn't make a fuss about his uniform, other than his mother's muttered comment that he might have told them instead of springing it on them like that.

When they reached the church, everybody he talked to admired his uniform, and he was inundated with questions about when he joined, when he'd be leaving, how long he'd be away, where he'd be sailing. He barely knew most of the answers himself.

While fielding questions, he was craning his neck for a glimpse of Izzy. She was nowhere to be seen. He supposed she was hiding away somewhere with Felicity and the other bridesmaids. Stupid wedding traditions. He never understood why people weren't allowed to see the girls before the wedding. What was the big deal, anyway?

It wasn't until he was standing at the front of the church and she entered that he understood. They were right. It was a big deal. His eyebrows quirked, admitting she had thoroughly won the bet. He didn't mind losing. Except....

"I lost," he said, coming up beside her as the music started and Felicity led Gus to the area that had been cleared for dancing. "Who's getting the first dance now?"

"You are, goose."

"Oh," he said, pleased.

"All of them," she added. "Except for the ones I dance with my father."

He smiled broadly. "I thought those were the terms if you lost."

"It wasn't a fair bet," she said. "I knew you always think I'm beautiful."

"You always are." He looked down into her laughing face and found it very hard not to kiss her, right there in the crowd of wedding guests.

She took his hand. "Care for a dance, sailor?"

"All of them," he replied.


	3. Goodbyes

They met in the woods to say their goodbyes. The station would be crowded, and from day to day Felix wasn't sure how his mother would hold up when the train pulled away. She might need a lot of tending to—and he had things he wanted to say to Izzy that he wasn't ready to say in front of anybody else yet. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to get them out now.

Her eyes were red when she arrived, but she wore a look that defied him to notice it, so he pretended not to. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," she replied. "When do you leave?"

"You know when I leave."

She shrugged in acknowledgment and sat down on a fallen tree. He observed that it was the same tree they had been sitting on when he told her about his decision to join the Navy. That tree must loom large in their destiny. He shook the thought out of his head, sat beside her, and stared at the moss at his feet for quite some time.

"Funny," he said at last.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just...I don't think we've ever spent this much time without talking before. You'd think we'd have a lot to say, with me leaving in two hours."

"I'm really proud of you, Felix, you know that?"

He grinned at her. "Don't know that I did. Any other nice things you want to say about me while you have the chance?"

"No."

His face fell.

"I feel too sick," she said, hugging her stomach. "It's stupid, I know. We're not even at war."

He moved closer, putting an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, letting out a breath that shook just a bit. "I'm coming back," he said. "It's only for a few years."

"Shut up," she snapped, but when he moved to pull away she threw her arms around his waist and held tight. "It's going to be so boring here without you."

"I'll write," he said. "That is...may I write?"

"I'd like to see you show your face again if you didn't."

"Izzy," he began awkwardly. "Izzy, I...."

"Shut up," she said again. "Save it for when you get home."

"Oh." So much for the things he couldn't say in front of anyone else, he was thinking, and then she kissed him.

They sat in silence for a while afterwards, her head against his shoulder. After all, he was glad they hadn't said their goodbyes at the station.


	4. Letter from the HMS Niobe

Dear Izzy,

I'm writing to you from the deck of the HMS _Niobe_, and I wish I had Gus' flair for words to give you some idea of what it's like to be here. You've heard of the _Niobe_, of course. I think everybody in Canada has. I'm proud to be stationed on her, especially since it means that sometimes, like today, we pass by PEI and I can stand at the prow and wave at all of you. (Some of the others do the same when we're near Nova Scotia, or Newfoundland, or wherever on the east coast they happen to be from—you might be surprised at how sentimental we Navy men can be.)

It's hard to believe training is finally over. I'm glad we had that break between the end of training and the start of my duties on the _Niobe_. After all that work learning the names of all the parts of a ship, how to steer, how to operate the guns, how to fix things, and all that physical training, I needed a break and some familiar faces. I don't know how the recruits from the interior pulled through—some of those courses were tough enough even for me as a lifelong Islander.

Thanks for coming with all the Kings (and Pikes, I guess—still getting used to that after just a few months) to meet me at the dock when I came in. I didn't exactly expect to see you there, but I'd been hoping for it anyway. The picnic last Saturday was the highlight of my time back home. You make the best fried chicken on the Island (don't tell my mother).

The sun is setting behind the Island, and the first stars are showing up, and the lights on deck are being turned on. It'll be curfew soon, so I'll wrap this up. I know you said if I didn't have time for a longer letter I could hold off and write one over a few days, but I'd rather write you one every day. It feels more like we're still together then. When I get your letters, I only read them one at a time. I can tell you that takes a _lot_ of willpower, but then I get to hear your voice every day, or as close as I can get out here. (See, I told you we Navy men were sentimental.)

I'm whispering "good night" as the Island fades out of view. I can only see the light from the lighthouse now. Miss you like always.

Your Friend,

Felix


	5. News Reaches Halifax

"A batch of letters came through from Felix," Muriel Pettibone announced as she entered the kitchen.

Izzy looked from her stepmother to the soup she was preparing, conflicted. "Put them on the table," she said at last. "I'll read them after dinner."

Muriel laughed and pulled her apron down. "_I'll_ tend to the soup. Go."

Her stepdaughter promptly dropped the spoon on the stove, grabbed the letters, and hurried upstairs to her room. With the door closed behind her, Izzy sat on the edge of her bed and sorted through the letters, putting them in order by postmark.

She never got over the rush of excitement she had felt the first time she received a stack of letters from Felix. If anything, the excitement had only built with each communication from the HMS _Niobe_.

Izzy didn't like the name of the ship, feeling it had an ominous flair for a vessel that might be called into battle someday. Most people probably didn't know that Niobe featured in Greek mythology as a woman whose children were slain by the gods and whose husband died afterwards, either by suicide or because he swore revenge, and that Niobe then became an icon of mourning. Most people probably didn't have a father and stepmother who had been educators for large portions of their lives, either. When referring to the _Niobe_ in her letters to Felix, Izzy simply called it "your ship," and never told him why.

The most recent letters had been forwarded from Avonlea, so Felix either hadn't known that they had moved to Halifax after all, or hadn't known their new address. It hadn't been as hard to leave Avonlea as Izzy had thought it would be, but then it had always been people who made a place home for Izzy, and most of the people who had made Avonlea home to her were here in Halifax or out on a ship patrolling the coast.

She knew Felix liked to read one of her letters a day, but she wasn't that patient. (Frankly, she was surprised that he _was_.) She preferred to read them all at once, and then over again at her leisure until the next arrived. The tone of the letters in this set was less downtrodden than the letters from training had been. They started out very upbeat, but did trend towards boredom by the end. She shook her head, fairly certain he didn't realize yet what the alternative to boredom _was_ in the services. He was the son of a farmer, not a military man like Clive Pettibone.

After dinner was over, Izzy was back in her room, this time sitting at her desk.

"Dear Felix,

"I received your letters today while I was making dinner. Thank goodness Muriel could take over the soup, or I don't know what it would have tasted like.

"As you can see from the return address, we're settled in Halifax now. Father doesn't have to travel so much anymore, and we like to be near him. With Arthur switching his focus to humans instead of animals, he's taking classes here in Halifax, so we see more of him, too. (Thankfully he lives in the dormitories. He and father get along much better when they don't live under the same roof.)

"I do miss Avonlea, but it wasn't the same after you left anyway. Of course we can still visit, so you be sure to let me know when you have leave and I'll be sure to be there. Cecily and I talk once in a while by phone, which is a strange way of keeping up with somebody but better than only ever letters. (Don't worry, I know you can't place calls from your ship.)

"Oh, I almost forgot. Last week when we were talking we could hear breathing on the line, and we just knew it must be Sally Potts, so Cecily and I were making up the most outrageous gossip about the Potts family, and how we'd heard that Sally would have had suitors lined up around the block except for them being afraid of marrying an important career woman, and all kinds of nonsense, until finally Cecily said, 'Maybe Sally could place phone calls to all the unattached men on the Island to check their views on emancipated women,' and we heard a humphing sound on the other end and our call was disconnected. Can you believe it? I hope nobody ever has any important news to give me by telephone, because I would hate Sally Potts or somebody like her telling half the world before I'd had the chance to get my thoughts together.

"Tomorrow Muriel and I...."

Clive's voice interrupted her letter. "Izzy?" His voice was tight and urgent. "Izzy, come down."

She hurried to do so, and found Arthur below with Clive and Muriel. They all looked solemn.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Britain has declared war on Germany," said Arthur grimly.

"What?"

"It's only a matter of time before Canada is involved. Maybe only a matter of hours."

"A matter of time?" Clive responded brusquely. "We're part of the Dominion. We're involved now."

"The Navy...."

"I doubt the Navy will be involved," Muriel reassured Izzy, looking to Clive for confirmation.

"With two ships, one for the west coast and one for the east, not counting those two submarines over by British Columbia? So do I," he said. "I don't think Germany will waste time sending ships across the ocean with the British at her door."

"Good," she said, her mind still whirling. "Good."

The four of them stood silently at the foot of the stairs, none of them looking like "good" was the word they would choose to describe their feelings.


	6. Change of Plan

"I just couldn't stay in the Navy when Canada was sending so many good men over to the European front. I'm needed more there than I am here. Militarily, I mean," he qualified awkwardly.

"No, I understand," said Izzy, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes. "I'd be doing the same thing, if I were you."

"Mother doesn't understand."

"Of course she doesn't," snapped Izzy. "She doesn't want anything to happen to you. She loves you."

Felix cast a sidelong glance at his friend, who was quite possibly ruining her hat by twisting the brim back and forth. "But you _do_ understand."

She sighed. "Yes, I do. It doesn't mean I like it. I don't want anything to happen to you, either. And France is a long way away in the best of times."

For a few moments, there was silence. Izzy stared out the window and watched the Nova Scotia landscape race past. Felix stared at Izzy.

"They'll probably be back from the dining car soon," he said. "Mother and Father, I mean."

"Most likely."

"Well...before they get back...I just wanted to ask...."

She turned to face him, curious. "What is it?"

"If it isn't too much," he rushed.

Exasperated, she shoved him playfully. "They're going to be back before you get your question out, at this rate. What?"

He took her hand and she went still. "I don't know how long I'll be gone," he said. "Could be a few months, could be a few years. You'll probably meet a lot of really nice men while I'm gone, but…." He grinned sheepishly. "Will you wait for me, anyway?"

"I've _been_ waiting, Felix," she replied quietly. "I'm not giving up on you now just because you'll be in Europe."

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"I've often suspected it."

"One more question," he asked.

"Sure."

"Would you rather I kiss you goodbye now while my parents aren't here or wait until we're on the dock with everybody around?"

Izzy looked thoughtful. "That assumes I'm going to let you kiss me at all, doesn't it?" She laughed at Felix's wounded expression. "Idiot," she said fondly. "You can do both, if you like."

He did.


	7. Unwelcome Phone Call

A heavy sense of foreboding hung over Izzy as she left the post office. Still no letters from Felix. He'd gone longer than this before without being able to get letters through, but she couldn't shake the sense that something was different this time.

Maybe she was just feeling overworked. She had entered teacher's college in September and her course load was surprisingly heavy for the first year, especially as exams were fast approaching.

In addition, she was volunteering at the hospital every chance she could, rolling bandages and assembling care packages for returning soldiers. It had only been a few months, and wounded soldiers were already arriving at the hospital in Halifax. Most of the volunteers were there for the same reason she was—one day, one of the returning soldiers might belong to one of them. They threw their energies into caring for the soldiers in front of them, trying not to think about the possibility that the next to lose an arm, or an eye, might be....

She shook her head sharply. Brooding didn't help anybody, least of all herself. Better to work, do something useful. Felix's letters were probably just running late, that's all. Any number of fairly innocuous things could delay letters coming all the way from France. Maybe the ship the letters were on hit a storm and was held up for a few days. Maybe the convoy that brought the mail had to find another route because a road was blocked. Maybe Felix was finally taking her advice and writing letters over several days instead of one a day. Any number of things.

Her coursework seemed harder than usual that evening, even though she was alone in the house and usually the quiet would have helped her study. She read the same pages in her history textbook over three times before she felt she had grasped the basic idea, and her history class was one of her favorites. She cast a doubtful glance at her biology text, wondering whether it was even worth opening it tonight.

The phone rang, and she leapt to answer it, glad of the diversion.

"Pettibone residence."

"Izzy?" came the voice on the other line, vaguely familiar but distorted, somehow.

"This is she. Who is this?"

"Izzy, it's Cecily."

Cecily called fairly often, but she had never sounded like this. Izzy's heart turned over. She grabbed the phone and sank to the floor with it, to be ready for anything.

"Felix?" Izzy asked.

A little sob escaped on the other end of the line, and Cecily said, "I heard at the telegraph office today. He's listed as missing in action. Him and Elbert Werts both."

Elbert Werts? Who cared about Elbert Werts? Who cared about anything? She thought she should sit down, then realized she already had.

"Izzy?"

"I'm here," she choked out.

"I'm so sorry to call you like this. But I knew you'd want to know."

Izzy held back a semi-hysterical laugh. "Want" was not exactly the word. "Yes," she said hollowly. "Thank you."

"Oh, Izzy, I wish you were here. It's absolutely miserable."

She did laugh then. She couldn't help it. Cecily must have realized what she had just said, because soon she was laughing, too.

"I feel better," Cecily said when they stopped, breathless from laughing and crying together. "I don't see how Felix could have been _really_ hurt if I can still laugh that hard."

"He's coming back," Izzy said, with the air of one who had made an unshakable decision.

"Yes." Cecily's voice grew muffled, as though she were speaking to someone behind her. "I have to go. Mother is very upset. I have to see if I can help her somehow."

"Give her a hug from me."

"I will. Give yourself one from _me_. I'll talk to you later, Izzy."

Izzy didn't bother moving from the floor after she hung up. She hugged her knees to her chest and waited for someone—anyone—to come home.


	8. Felicity Understands

In the days immediately following Cecily's phone call, Izzy tried to rally herself and carry on as usual. She met with little success, especially since carrying on as usual meant exams at a time when no new information seemed likely to stick in her head. Her professors were remarkably understanding and said they would allow her to postpone sitting the exams, as long as she finished them sometime before the next session began.

Her father and Muriel were also solicitous, lending a hand with her chores and keeping her supplied with all of her favorite foods and books. Izzy would have preferred to have chores added instead of taken away—although she couldn't study well just now she desperately felt the need to be _doing_ something—but she didn't feel like trying to explain that. Arthur was a bit more helpful. He would come for her and they would take long walks, talking about everything and yet nothing, because they didn't talk about Felix.

Nobody in her family talked about Felix. It was as though talking about him might make the nightmare real. The only person who brought up his name was Gus Pike, who had dropped by from time to time since being stationed in Halifax as a naval telegraph operator. He had shown up on their doorstep the evening after they heard.

"Felicity called about Felix," he said. "Seemed to think my visitin' you would do us both good, an' as usual, I tend to agree with her."

The visit did do her good. They sat and talked about Felix for hours—all their favorite memories, all of his character traits that would help him through this, all of the things they were looking forward to about seeing him again. (Well, many of the things. Izzy kept a few to herself.)

For as much as the recollection of Gus' own disappearance made her imagine the horrors Felix might be going through, it was a concrete reminder that somebody could still be alive, even if nobody had heard from him. It also reminded her of another resource she hadn't turned to yet.

The next afternoon, Muriel had a meeting to attend and Izzy convinced her that she could be left alone in the house. As soon as her stepmother was out of sight, she turned to the phone and placed a call.

"Avonlea Foundling Home, Felicity Pike speaking."

"Felicity, hi. It's Izzy."

"Hello, Izzy," Felicity responded, and Izzy could tell from the tone of her voice that she knew the purpose of the call.

"I needed to talk. About Felix. I couldn't think of anybody who'd understand like you would."

"He's the second person who has disappeared from my life with no trace," Felicity acknowledged. "And I expect him to be the second to come back out of the blue."

"How did you handle it? When news came about _The Maid of Calais_? How did you keep from going mad?"

"I didn't, exactly. I didn't want to talk to anybody, or see anybody."

Izzy sighed. "My father and Muriel...Arthur.... I feel horribly unappreciative, but they're so...."

"Sympathetic?" supplied Felicity.

"I should be glad for that."

"It's hard to be," Felicity said. "They don't understand. They don't know Felix like you do."

Izzy shook her head, forgetting that Felicity was miles away from Halifax and had no way of seeing her.

"I know this is difficult, but try to remember that they're grieving, too. I didn't realize until after Gus came home just how much my parents, and Felix, and Aunt Hetty, and so many other people had been grieving his loss. They were afraid to show it because they thought it was trivial next to mine. And I probably made them feel that it was."

"I guess that's true."

"It's easy to be heartless when your heart is in so much pain," said Felicity. "But Izzy?"

"Yes?"

"It's worth it afterwards."

"How do you mean?" Izzy asked.

Felicity paused before she spoke. "Well, it's certainly not to say I would ever have wished Gus' accident on him. I wish he and I hadn't been separated, that he hadn't lost his sight. But…there is something more real about our life together now because of the time we spent apart. Even as we're separated now, I feel closer to him because I feel how much I miss him."

"He misses you, too," Izzy offered.

"I know. And I'm sure Felix knows you miss him."

Izzy suddenly thought of a new reason for concern. "What if Felix is injured and doesn't want to come back because he thinks I deserve someone better?"

Felicity let out a sigh of exasperation. "Gus Pike was always too chivalrous for his own good. I think you can trust Felix to have learned by example that you don't do anybody who really loves you any favors by staying away, for whatever reason."

Anybody who really loves you. Izzy hadn't put it quite that way before, even to herself. But there it was.

"Thank you, Felicity," she said.


	9. Voyage Home

The waves dashing over the prow cast saltwater into Felix's face, but he welcomed its sting. It had been a week since the ship left France, and he couldn't get home fast enough. Although.... He put a hand on his left breast pocket, where he carried the last letter Elbert Werts had written to his parents. Not everything about this homecoming would be happy.

Everything about the battlefield in France was surreal, simultaneously appearing in his mind in stark relief and as a confusing blur. Elbert's plea for him to take word back to his parents, and Felix's reassurance that Elbert could bring word to his parents himself. The order to rush. The gunfire, the shells. Elbert's scream, and Felix's attempts to carry him on that were cut short by a bullet to his own arm and a glancing blow to the head a few moments later from a rock kicked up by one of the shells.

He had woken up in the base hospital tent, but Elbert hadn't been so lucky. A tear ran down Felix's cheek as he thought of his friend, who must have had a premonition that he wouldn't be coming home. But then, Felix had had that same premonition before, and here he was, face towards Canada.

The final attack played over and over again in Felix's mind, but he could never see a way he could have saved Elbert. In a way, he was glad. It would be hard enough delivering the news to Elbert's parents without the knowledge of his own guilt.

He wished he had had the opportunity to telephone King Farm before he left, but they had been rushed from the field hospital to the ship so quickly that he doubted anybody knew enough to know he had been there. Maybe it was better this way. Nobody at home would have known he had been injured, nobody would have been worrying about him. He was sure his mother would do plenty of worrying when he arrived, but he'd be there, then, to reassure her it wasn't as bad as she thought it was.

They would be docking in Halifax in another few days. He looked forward to dropping in on Izzy before heading off to Prince Edward Island. That was one good thing about having an injury bad enough he had to be sent home. He felt the pocket that held the letter again and remembered it could have been much worse.

He reached into another pocket and pulled out another letter, salt-stained and worn at the creases from many readings, some on this very deck. He unfolded it and read it once again, enjoying the casual stories of home and lingering over the closing line: "It would be selfish and unpatriotic of me to wish you could be here with me, so I won't. But I wish I could be with you. Ever, Izzy."

A small smile appeared on his face. "Ever, Izzy," she'd written. Not exactly "ever yours," but close enough. She had been less certain of her feelings than he of his when it came to their relationship, and ever since the fiasco when he let the whole town think he kissed her, he had respected that. Anyway, maybe he had been the one who didn't understand their relationship then. He understood it better now.

Over his years in the services, the letters from Janet had been solicitous, the letters from Alec full of fatherly clichés, the letters from his siblings and Great-Aunt Eliza newsy and amusing, but the letters from Izzy had felt the most like home.

He wasn't sure his arm would ever heal fully, but he was sure that no matter what, he wanted to offer it to her.


	10. You Should Have Called

Izzy had just started flouring the rolling pin when the doorbell rang. "Of course," she muttered.

"I'll get it," Muriel called from the front room.

"Thank you," Izzy called back, brushing hair from her forehead with the back of her wrist and then continuing to add flour to the rolling pin so it wouldn't stick to the pie crust. Who could possibly be at the door this early on Christmas morning?

She heard the door open, heard Muriel gasp, heard someone greet her.... Her heart leapt into her throat and she grabbed the edge of the table for support.

The voices were moving rapidly closer. "My, my, you gave me a turn," said Muriel.

"Sorry to drop in like this, but I wanted to surprise..."

She looked up as he finished.

"...Izzy."

Everything seemed very far away and distinct. There he stood, in his uniform, with scrapes on his face and his right arm bandaged and in a sling, but otherwise looking—whole.

"Felix," she managed.

"Not even a hug?" he asked when she didn't move.

She opened her mouth to explain, calmly, that her hands were all floury and that she didn't want to get it all over his clean uniform.

"Give her a second," Muriel said before she could speak. "You _were _listed as missing in action, after all."

Alarm flashed into his eyes. "I was _what_?"

Izzy started brushing flour onto her apron. Some of it seemed to be getting sticky, as though it were wet, which is how she realized she was crying. Felix crossed to her in two quick steps and gathered her into his arms.

"The flour," she muttered weakly, but he ignored her, pressing a kiss to her hair as Muriel discreetly backed out of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered repeatedly. "I didn't know."

"You should have called," said Izzy, amazed again at the inane level of her conversation. "We would have been more ready for you."

He pulled back, now as dusty as she was. "Ridiculous. I like you every way I've ever seen you. Although," he added hesitantly, "I don't know that finding you in the middle of making a pie wouldn't have been something I'd have dreamed about if I'd thought of it."

"It really _is_ you," she laughed, hugging him again. "Nobody else could make such a sorry joke at a time like this." A sudden thought occurred to her, and she pushed him away.

"What?"

"Your mother...your family! They've been worried sick! You have to call them!"

"Right!" he said, energized, and the two of them hurried to the telephone in the hall, where Felix attempted to place a call to King Farm only to find that the Avonlea switchboard was down.

Felix looked to Izzy, crestfallen. "I have to go. Right now."

"Of course you do," she urged.

"Come with me?"

She considered it, then shook her head. "It's a family time."

"You're as close to being family as...."

"But I'm _not_," she insisted, taking his free hand before he could start on a topic she didn't want to discuss in a rush. "Thank you, but they need to see you alone." He nodded, and she squeezed his hand tighter. "Hurry back."

"Like the wind." He picked his hat off the stand by the door. "Give my regards to your father and Muriel. Oh, and Gus, if he's still in town."

"He is."

"Good. Well, give him my regards, too." He opened the door and swept out, leaving Izzy wondering if it had all been a dream before he swept back in.

"Everything's so confused, I almost forgot," he apologized, and kissed her quickly. "More on that when I get back," he said, and disappeared again.

Izzy wanted to dance and yell and sing all at once, but she decided she would rather prepare for his return. As soon as she had telephoned Gus, she headed back to the kitchen. She was going to make the best set of pies anyone in Halifax had ever tasted.


	11. Family Reunion

Felix tapped his knee impatiently as the train slowed. In the hours since he left Izzy, he had been tormented with worry. What must his family and friends have suffered from the War Office's mistake? It had been three weeks since his injury—when had they heard he was missing in action? A week? Two? All three? "Worried sick," Izzy had said, and he could believe it, especially of his mother.

He dug into his pocket for coins to pay for the sleigh ride from the station to King Farm and came up short of what it would cost. He had some extra in his bag, he remembered, which was quickly followed by the recollection that his bag was in the Pettibones' front hallway. Never mind. He'd walk home if necessary.

It wasn't necessary. The first sleigh driver he spoke to about his predicament said he'd drive him at no charge. "I have a son overseas myself," he said. "I'd hope someone would do the same by him."

The sleigh glided over the snow-packed road. Felix was grateful that it wasn't summer. In his current condition, carriage wheels jostling over ruts would have been more uncomfortable than usual.

When they drew up in front of the house, they found the King sleigh loaded—Alec, Felicity, Cecily, Daniel, even Great-Aunt Eliza. Their faces froze in shock, but one was missing.

"I'm back, it's not as bad as it looks, I'm sorry about everything, where's Mother?" Felix spurted as he shook his driver's hand in gratitude and got out of the sleigh.

"F-Felix?" stammered Cecily.

"Inside," Alec said automatically.

"I'll be _right_ back," said Felix, and rushed to the door.

Strangely, when he entered everything seemed to slow down. He found himself moving slower, and the entirety of the comforting speech he had been preparing since he left Halifax melted from his mind. Two thoughts rose clearly: Elbert Werts wasn't coming home, and Janet King may have been thinking the same of her own son. Between those thoughts, he found himself overwhelmed.

"Now, who is that back in here?" Janet called. "Get out to the sleigh, we have to get to Aunt Hetty's."

She turned, and he saw she was holding his favorite ornament in one hand—to represent him at the family Christmas dinner, no doubt. He couldn't speak, but that was all right because neither could she. All they could do for some time was cling to each other, crying tears of mingled sorrow and relief. Alec came in from the sleigh and joined the embrace, followed soon after by everyone else.

Finally, Janet gasped. "The dinner! It must be getting frozen out there!"

Alec laughed. "Never mind the dinner, Janet." He grasped Felix's shoulder, tears in his eyes. "Our son has come home."

As if in answer, Felix's stomach growled loudly, reminding him he hadn't eaten since breakfasting aboard the ship. The ensuing laughter broke the tension in the room.

"Back in the sleigh, everyone," ordered Great-Aunt Eliza. "We need to get some food into this young man."

Aunt Olivia answered the door at Rose Cottage. Her eyes widened when she saw Felix on the doorstep, and she rushed at him, jumping and squealing in excitement.

Aunt Hetty's plaintive voice drifted from the couch where she was lying. "What's all that racket?"

Rachel Lynde rounded the corner from the kitchen. "Saints above! Felix King!"

"Felix?" Hetty said. There was a rustle as she tried to sit up, then a whimper as she found she had moved too abruptly.

"Hold your horses, Hetty King," said Rachel. "He's coming, he's coming."

Olivia grabbed Cecily's hand. "We have to wire Jasper the good news. Will you?"

"Absolutely," Cecily smiled. "Oh, and Izzy...."

"She knows," said Felix, knowing as he spoke that it would mean an explanation lay ahead as to how she knew before anyone else.

Cecily just smiled more broadly as Olivia pulled her out the door. "We'll be back before you know it."

Great-Aunt Eliza and Rachel Lynde had the presence of mind to put the food in the oven to keep warm. All of the other adults were busy with hugs and tears and requests for information. Felix told them as much as he could without breaking down, but he came close several times as he thought of the Werts family and how this Christmas and all of their Christmases afterwards would be emptier.

When Cecily and Olivia returned, all the food was laid out and Hetty was helped off the couch and led to the head of the table. "We are blessed," she said, smiling around the table and especially at Felix. "Here's a toast. To the joys of the season. To this family. To those gathered here and those in our hearts. And to being loved. A Happy Christmas to us all."

For the first Christmas of all his Christmases at home, Felix felt there was something amiss. The next day's duty—searching out the Werts family to deliver news of Elbert—weighed on him, but that wasn't all. He glanced down at his plate and in so doing caught a glimpse of flour on his uniform jacket.

Janet hadn't been upset when she heard that he went to see Izzy first, especially when he explained that he hadn't known he was listed as missing in action until Muriel told him. "I'm just glad you came to us as soon as you heard," she said. "And that you won't be going anywhere for a while."

He looked over at his mother and saw how fragile she looked. After all this time trying to be strong and hold to hope, she was finally able to let go. He couldn't leave her now. But he'd promised Izzy....

There was only one thing to do. He caught Cecily's elbow as they were filing out of the house, Aunt Hetty's injunction to visit tomorrow, or as soon as Felix felt up to it, following them.

"Can you send a telegram at any hour?"

"You can if you have the key to the office," she said. "But why not just telephone?"

"I tried this morning, but I couldn't get through."

Cecily sighed in exasperation. "That's right, it's Christmas. Sally Potts doesn't have a single operator who will agree to cover the switchboard on holidays. It's maddening."

"Aren't you coming in?" Janet asked when they arrived at King Farm and Felix and Cecily stayed in the sleigh.

"We have to go to town and send a telegram," said Cecily. "The switchboard is down, and it's important."

"It won't take long," Felix reassured his mother. "It's only three words."

They hurried to the telegraph office and Cecily typed out the message as quickly as she could.

"Please come. Felix."


	12. The Telegram Arrives

Izzy didn't have to question why Felix's plans to return to Halifax had changed. Almost as soon as he had rushed out the previous day, she had realized he wouldn't be able to leave his family as abruptly as he'd indicated to her. She could only imagine how torn apart they all had been, and here she was, one of the few people in Halifax who knew his name, let alone ached to see him.

She had telephoned to leave a message for Gus Pike, laughed and cried with Muriel for a while, and then gone back to the kitchen to relieve her feelings through baking all of Felix's favorite pies (he never restricted himself to one favorite when it came to food). By the time Gus telephoned in the late afternoon, the house was filled with the scent of freshly baked apple, cherry, and mince pies.

"Got your message to call," said Gus. "Did ya think of somethin' for me to bring to dinner?"

Izzy laughed. Muriel had insisted that Gus come for Christmas dinner, equally insisting that he not be allowed to bring anything. Gus still pretended to be hurt over the latter, even though he had no access to the kitchen in the small boarding house where he was living.

"I have far better news than that," she said. "I saw Felix this morning. He's home."

"No," Gus replied incredulously. "This very morning?"

"Yes," said Izzy. "His arm was injured, but he seems to be doing well. He rushed off to Avonlea straight away."

Gus made a sound of frustration. "Don't that beat all. Now I have two reasons for wishin' my duties weren't so important just now."

"What's the other?"

His pride was evident. "I'm gonna be a father. Felicity telephoned yesterday morning with the news."

"Gus! Congratulations!" exclaimed Izzy. "Can't you leave for just a few days? I was hoping you'd be able to escort me back to Avonlea tomorrow. I know Felix would love to see you."

"I've been askin' an' askin', but I'm afraid not. There's plenty a man here in the same boat as me, and none of us can be spared for as long as it'd take me to get to Avonlea an' back. Felicity said she'll come up herself as soon as she gets a chance. Maybe Felix'll come with her. I'd like that."

"So would I. But I can't wait for that. I want to see him as soon as I can."

"He wants that, too," said Gus, his voice wistful. "No matter how he came back, that's just what he'd want most."

Which is why Izzy was on the telephone the first thing Saturday morning, trying to get through to King Farm. She tried several times, but every time, the switchboard was still down. She sighed. Her bag was packed, sitting by the door next to the bag Felix had left behind. There were three boxed pies on the kitchen table, all tied together with string to be ready for the journey. But none of that mattered if Felix was on his way back to Halifax.

The doorbell rang, and the messenger who was standing there when she opened the door handed her a telegram. She ripped it open and smiled at the contents.

"Any reply, miss?" he asked.

"Yes."

He waited expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry.... 'Yes' is the reply." She turned to the purse on the hall table and pulled out a few bills, which she handed to the messenger. "Thank you."

Clive and Muriel entered from the library as the front door was closing. "Who was that?" Muriel asked.

"A telegram," she said, waving the article in question. "From Felix. He wants me to come."

Muriel put her hand on her husband's arm, giving him a look that told Izzy the pair had discussed this at some length. Clive's eyes grew misty, and his voice was gruff as he replied, "I'll drive you to the station." Not "under no circumstances," not "you're not going alone," but "I'll drive you to the station."

Izzy hugged Muriel tightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," she said. "Be proud of him. Sometimes it's hard to watch your little girl grow up." At the affection in her stepmother's voice, Izzy hugged her again.

"Well, let's go," Clive said. "The next train leaves in an hour, and it won't wait for goodbyes."

Izzy looked at him incredulously and saw he was holding a railway timetable. "You're the best father in the world," she said.

"You've little experience to draw that conclusion," he retorted, smiling, "but I appreciate it nonetheless."

Clive went to get the car, and Izzy ran to the kitchen. She was not about to forget those pies.


	13. Izzy Comes

Felix stood at the Carmody train station, craning his neck to look down the tracks through the gathering dusk as though the train would arrive faster that way. Janet smiled and rubbed his back calmingly.

"There's only one train she could have possibly been on if she only left this morning, and it isn't set to arrive for another ten minutes. Besides, the station master said the trains have been running behind all day," she reminded him.

"I know," he answered absent-mindedly.

"Wouldn't you rather sit down?" she asked, although she knew the answer before he shook his head in the negative.

She slid her arm through his. All of the pain and suffering of the last several days were fading already—it was almost surreal to think that only yesterday afternoon they had not known where he was, or if he were even still alive. Now here she was, standing arm in arm with her son, waiting for a train that carried, from the expression of eager anticipation on his face, a woman who had become far more important to him than Janet had realized.

"There it is," Felix exclaimed. "I knew she wouldn't be late," he added, as though Izzy had some influence over the railway system itself.

Janet released his arm and stepped back. He shot a grin in her direction and then turned his full attention to the train. As it approached the platform, slowed, he caught a glimpse of Izzy in one of the windows and waved frantically. In return she put both hands against the pane, smiling with an excitement Janet recognized very well. She opened her handbag, hoping she had remembered her handkerchief.

Before the train had come to a complete stop, Izzy had pulled a stack of boxes from under her seat and was hurrying along to the door. Felix was at the stairs to offer her his assistance.

"What's all that?" he asked, pointing to the boxes she held in front of her.

"Your welcome home present," she replied.

"Having you here is good enough for me."

"They're pies."

"You're the perfect woman," he said. "Although those pies are a little in the way, don't you think?"

"Not really, considering your mother is standing right over there."

Felix looked around as if he had just remembered that fact and caught his mother dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Hello, Mrs. King," said Izzy, and Janet hurried over, embracing her from the side and kissing her cheek.

"Hello, dear," she said. "Do you have any luggage?"

"Mine and Felix's," she said. "I had to check both bags in order to take proper care of the pies."

"The perfect woman," Felix repeated, and Janet's heart twinged at the look the two young people exchanged.

No matter how happy she was for them, sometimes it was hard to watch her children grow up.


	14. The Tree Looms Large

Sunday afternoon was lazy, a welcome respite from the bustle of the crowd at church that morning and the crowd at King Farm for dinner afterwards. Felix understood that everyone was eager to talk to him upon his reappearance after he had been listed as missing in action, but it was a little tiring. Some people were all right to talk with, but some asked questions he didn't want to answer. And almost everybody, from mere acquaintances to family members, threw significant glances at Izzy that had both her and Felix feeling thoroughly uncomfortable by the time everything quieted down. Felix had been on edge all day, afraid that someone would move past significant glances and actually pop the question on his behalf. (In a town like Avonlea, anything was possible.)

Finally, Aunt Hetty and her group had returned to Rose Cottage, Alec had pulled Janet out to take a walk with him instead of hovering over Felix, and Felicity had retired to her room for a nap.

Felix looked out the window. "Want to go for a walk, too, Iz?"

"You're really up for a walk? You had three pieces of pie at dinner."

"Those were going fast," he defended himself. "I needed to have a piece of each."

"I promise you, I will make you more pies."

"And I will hold you to that," he said. "Now will you come for a walk?"

"I'll go," Daniel piped up.

At the look on her older brother's face, Cecily intervened. "Why don't we play checkers, Daniel?"

"I want to walk with Felix."

"You can walk with Felix later. Right now you can lose at checkers."

Daniel looked offended. "I don't lose."

"Prove it," she challenged, and he ran off to get the board.

Felix mouthed a quick "thank you" to his sister and stood, holding his left hand to Izzy and raising an eyebrow in questioning expectation. She shook her head.

"Felix King the iron-stomached," she said, placing her hand in his. "All right, let's go."

They rambled hand in hand across the farmyard and into the woods, over the creek and past the old fox shack, reminiscing aloud about their past and dreaming silently about their future.

"Remember when you would never have dreamed of wearing dresses?" Felix asked when Izzy's skirt caught on a log and she had to bend down to release it.

"Remember when you told me you hoped I wouldn't be a girl when I grew up?" she retorted.

His brow furrowed. "What? When?"

"I don't remember exactly. It was over something Felicity had done, no doubt."

"You've never been _that_ kind of girl, thank goodness. Although Felicity hasn't turned out all bad," he added with brotherly affection. "She ended up with good taste in men, after all."

"But _I'm_ not that kind of girl," Izzy prompted, and Felix flushed.

"Maybe not," he said. "You seem to spend a lot of time with me. How good can your taste be?"

Izzy laughed. "Don't play self-deprecating, Felix, it doesn't work for you."

He gestured to a fallen tree, brushed the snow from it, and they sat down. Izzy looked around. It was their spot—where he had told her he was enlisting, where they had said their goodbyes, where they had come to talk when he was home on leave, where she had come to read his letters before she left for Halifax. When he had extended the invitation to come for a walk, she had known they would end up here.

Felix reached for her hand and she placed both in his. "I'm glad you grew up into a girl," he said. "A woman."

"Dresses and everything?"

"Dresses and everything. Besides, dress or no dress, you can still throw the best fastball I've ever seen. _And_ make the best pies I've ever tasted."

"I've tasted your quiche," said Izzy. "You're pretty well-rounded, yourself."

"I don't know how this is going to heal," Felix said, nodding at his right arm. "The doctor at the field hospital said I can probably expect some loss of range of motion, some pain to persist...that sort of thing. I don't know what sort of work I'll be suited for until it heals, or even afterwards. And my leg isn't exactly as good as new, either."

"We'll handle it," Izzy replied, supplying the pronoun unconsciously.

"Yeah," said Felix. "Maybe it's selfish of me, but I want it to be something for _us_ to handle."

"You could have died," she said, and she tightened her grip on his hand in acknowledgment of what she knew he was thinking. He had visited the Werts family on Saturday before she arrived. "Maybe it's selfish of _me_, but I'd rather you lost the arm entirely than that I lost you."

"Well, while we're being selfish," he said, and the look in his eyes set her heart pounding. "I don't have any ring. No prospects. Not much of anything, really. But I love you. I've loved you for ages."

"You call that 'not much of anything'?" she asked, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"If you feel the same way," he murmured, reaching his hand to brush away the first tear that fell, "I'd call it everything."

"I love you, too," she replied.

"Izzy Pettibone, you're my best friend, even if you _are_ a girl," he grinned. "Will you marry me?"

"Of course I will. After all," she said as he leaned in to kiss her, her ear-to-ear grin matching his, "you take a lot of looking after, Felix King."

**~~fin~~**


End file.
